


the projectionist

by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader)



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8414665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcrusader/pseuds/batofgoodintent
Summary: Kon nearly dies on another mission. As he's laid up in Tim's room, Tim learns a non-destructive way to cope.





	

“I’m dying.”

Had the situation been more dire, Tim might have spared a glance up. But as it was, he knew Kon was just fishing for attention. And considering Kon had actually died before, the only expression that settled onto Tim’s face was closer to irritation than compassion. It wasn’t strange for Kon to make light of serious things, but… for him to joke about _that_ …

“I’m sure you are,” Tim said, clicking his teeth together and continuing to look at the report in front of him. “Should I tell them to make another statue in advance?”

Though he didn’t spare a glance for the realization dawning on Kon’s face, he heard it in the other’s sigh.

“Tim… You know I didn’t mean it like—oh, come _on_ ,” Kon said, and Tim just knew the pitiful expression Kon was making to go with that tone. “It’s like three in the morning. You’ve been at it all day. I’m literally bored to _tears_ over here.”

Tim rolled his eyes but didn’t look behind him. He sincerely doubted Kon was actually crying—after all, on the rare occasions that he did, he wasn’t quick to admit it. “You wouldn’t be bored if you were sleeping.”

“I’ve been sleeping all _day_ ,” Kon said. “Letting my body dual charge with sleep and sunlight, yadda yadda yadda. But you have no idea how boring this is, Tim. I swear if I spend one more minute here I’m gonna end up being absorbed into the mattress. It’s awful.”

Tim heard a muffled thump and knew that his boyfriend had flopped backwards in frustration, right back onto the mattress. _Good_ , he decided. Kon was _supposed_ to be laying back. Considering the extensive damage done to his side and some of his Kryptonian organs, it was a small miracle he was even awake and alert right now—let alone _complaining_ about his plight.  

Though Tim was glad his boyfriend was healing ahead of schedule, he wasn’t thrilled about how he was tempting fate. Stitches could only do so much if Kon insisted on straining against them.

All Tim could manage was a shake of his head and a terse, “You’ll live.”

Kon continued, undaunted by Tim’s unamused response. “But I haven’t gotten to do _anything_ all day and you’re ignoring me, and Bart and Cassie are busy, and Clark’s sure as hell not going to visit, and I couldn’t ask Ma to come all the way out here just to entertain me.” Kon paused for a breath, laying it on thick when he finally said, “You’re the only one I’ve got right now, babe.” When even _that_ didn’t get Tim to look up, Kon sighed, sounding genuinely disheartened. “…I know you’re busy, Tim, but this is getting ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” Tim said, but Kon’s wheedling must have appealed to his conscience, because his fingers stilled momentarily over the keys. “But I have a lot to do.”

“I know you do.” Kon sighed. “Just wish you weren’t still busy at _three in the morning_ when you’ve been working all day, is all.”

“Kon…”

“Don’t even start on a lecture, babe,” Kon said. “You’ve said it often enough. I know— _you’re busy_. Just forget I even asked.”

Though Kon sounded thoroughly put out, Tim ignored the guilt bubbling in his stomach. Before he could truly refocus himself though, he heard Kon shift around behind him. He was just about to tell him to just lie down and go back to sleep when Kon let out a hiss of pain. Despite himself, Tim turned around and looked up, only to find Kon rubbing irritably at his side, where bandages were still wrapped around him.

“Rubbing at it isn’t going to make it any better,” Tim said, frowning up at him. “Just lay down and wait for the sun to come back up. You’re still a long way from recovered.”

“Oh, _now_ he looks up,” Kon muttered, pursing his lips and letting himself fall flat on his back once more. “I’m fine, Wonder Boy. Go back to working. I’ll be fine without your intervention.”

Tim glanced between his laptop and his bed, where Kon had been laid up for a full day and a half. “You were begging me to acknowledge you not thirty seconds ago,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You need another dose of pain medication?”

“I need to get up and _move_ ,” Kon said, voice coming out a little harsher than he’d meant. “I’m not even that injured anymore. All the Kryptonite’s been pulled out and the lingering effects aren’t nearly as big of a deal as you’re pretending—”

“Kryptonite poisoning isn’t a big deal?”

“Not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be, no,” Kon said. “I’m going to be fine. And even if I wasn’t, you really just want to ignore me the whole time I’m here?”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“What else am I supposed to think, Tim?” Kon looked up at the ceiling, frustration spilling over. “This is the longest you’ve actually _talked_ with me the whole time I’ve been here.”

Tim grit his teeth. “I thought you’d torn open your stitches,” he said. “Forgive me if I don’t want you bleeding out on my bed.”

“So you only give a shit when I’m actively dying?”

“Can you stop joking about that?!” Tim stood up and walked to the side of his bed, legs protesting the motion all the way. “You almost died. _Again_. It’s not a _joke_ , Kon. If that Kryptonite had been an inch to the right, you would’ve—”

“And if I hadn’t intervened, the entire team would’ve died and most of the city would have been leveled.” Kon met Tim’s gaze, purposefully defiant. Tim was reminded of the first year he’d known Kon—back when he was something of a rebel. Back when he had a leather jacket, a fade haircut, and a bad attitude to spare. “Don’t act like I didn’t do the right thing, Tim. I did my job. Same as you woulda done in my position.”

Tim let out a tightly controlled sigh, bracing his hands against the bed. “You still got shot,” he said. “With _Kryptonite_. It grazed one of your vital organs, or are you forgetting that part?”

“One of my _Kryptonian_ vital organs,” Kon corrected him. “Worst comes to worst it’ll be harder for my body to store sunlight for later. Big deal.”

“It was a few inches from hitting you dead center,” Tim snapped. “And you’re treating it like it’s—”

“I’m treating it like it’s what, Tim?” Kon set his jaw, looking squarely up at him. “At least I’m acknowledging it and trying to move on,” he said. “All you’ve been doing is alternating between fussing over me like I’m a kid, and ignoring me completely.”

“I haven’t been—”

“Look, I _get_ that you don’t want me to die,” Kon interrupted before Tim could argue. “I don’t want me to die either, believe it or not. But I couldn’t let you or the team get hurt. I know you think I’m an idiot but no one else could take him down. I know I played it risky, and I know you’re scared to death of me dying again because of how much you lost it before. But I’m going to keep putting myself at risk, Tim, because it’s my _job_. Same as Red Robin is yours.”

If Tim had the energy to fight with him, he might have. But it was three in the morning, and he’d been working all day, and awake for almost 56 hours prior to that. So for the moment, all he could do was lean against the bed and grab Kon’s hand. “I know,” he finally said, not willing to look up and acknowledge whatever expression Kon was making. “I _know_ , okay? You don’t need to remind me every time you get hurt.”

Though Kon didn’t stop arguing—did he _ever_?—his voice was a little softer when he replied. “Apparently you do, Tim, ‘cause you lose it every time I end up in MedBay.”

“You don’t even _go_ to MedBay,” Tim muttered, leaning closer and resting his aching head against his and Kon’s joined hands. “You just let them patch you up the bare minimum and take up my bed until you’re healed.”

Kon huffed a laugh, but Tim knew it was forced. “Not my fault the MedBay cramps my style,” he said. Somehow, the light phrasing severely downplayed the adverse reactions he had to waking up in a place that looked like a CADMUS lab. “Besides, your room has the biggest windows.”

“Liar,” Tim said, still not bringing his head back up. “Bart’s does.”

Tim could practically hear the incredulous smile on Kon’s face, despite their argument. “What, you think Bart’s room would be a better place for me to recover? I think he’d probably try eight variations of pseudo medical practice on me. Thanks but no thanks, babe. I’ll pass.”

“I could let him stay with me so you could stay in his room.”

“Right,” Kon said, caught between rolling his eyes and feeling genuine irritation. “Because that’d really let you finish your work on time. I think I’d prefer you not staying up for five days in a row. Four’s enough already.”

Tim heard the agitation under the surface, and he finally risked looking up.

Seeing the look on Tim’s face, Kon seemed to regret his tone. But he didn’t try to take it back. “You know how I feel about your sleep schedule, Tim,” he said. Not wanting to seem too angry, he gave his hand a squeeze. “One of these days you need to start taking care of yourself. What’s gonna happen if you pass out on patrol?”

Tim gave him a flat stare. “My body is my own concern,” he said. “Even aside from that, you’re laid up in my room with an injury that almost killed you—and, of all things, you’re worried about me?”

“Well gee, Tim,” Kon said, sarcasm biting into his tone. “It’s not like I’m in love with you and you’re my boyfriend and best friend or anything. Totally no reason for me to care about your health and wellbeing.”

“Hey,” Tim said, pulling away enough to give him an attempt at a withering scowl. (It wasn’t all that effective; it was too hard to glare at Kon when he was injured.) “ _I_ was Mister Sarcastic. Not you. Take five on the sass.”

“Deflecting.” Kon carefully reached up and pulled him down by his shirt collar. The kiss was brief and chaste, but the motion seemed to pain him.

Not wanting Kon to overstrain himself, Tim leaned over more, returning the kiss more gently. “Don’t move so much,” he chastised. “If you want a kiss, just ask.”

Kon pulled away enough to frown at him. “Like that worked at all in the last eight hours?”

“What do you want me to say, Kon?” Tim sighed, leaning his forehead against the other’s. “That I’m sorry for ignoring you?”

“That’d be a good start, yeah.”

“Kon…” Tim cupped his cheek and gave him another brief kiss. “I’m busy. You know that.”

“Yeah, but this is getting excessive. Even for you,” Kon said. “I haven’t seen you take more than five minutes’ break the whole time I’ve been here. You usually have a better work to non-work ratio than this, at least by a little bit.” He was quiet for a moment, as if waiting for Tim to answer him. When Tim didn’t, he sighed and continued. “I wish you’d tell me what’s going on with you, babe.”

Tim pulled away, tucking long hair behind his ear. “…I don’t think you’d want to know, if I told you.”

Kon furrowed his brows. “Um. Elaboration on that one, please? What part of ‘boyfriend’ and ‘best friend’ implies that I don’t want to know what’s going on?”

“The part where you feel guilty when people worry over you?”

The confused expression on Kon’s face didn’t waver. “Um. Let me get this straight,” he said, talking slowly. “You’re working yourself to the bone because you’re … _worried about me_?” Kon took Tim’s silence as agreement. “…Have you had one too many concussions, Tim?”

“You already think I’m crazy. Find a better question,” Tim said, looking away. There was something in his tone that said he might have been legitimately offended by Kon’s words, but Kon was a little too on edge to have more grace than a bull in a proverbial china shop.

“…Okay. I’m just gonna say—whether you actually believe what you said or not, it’s bullshit. If you knew me at all you’d know I’m just gonna feel like shit because my boyfriend’s running himself into the ground. Seriously—of all the times to crank up your workflow, you choose when I’m literally immobilized in your room? What the hell, Tim?”

Tim still didn’t make eye-contact, though he was tempted to. “I’m not doing it just to inconvenience you,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’m just… playing catch-up with documents.”

“…catch-up?” Kon deadpanned. When Tim didn’t try to amend his statement, Kon frowned. “Catch-up from _what_?”

Tim let out a tired sigh. “Well, for starters, the full day you spent unconscious after your last battle,” he said. “The mission already lasted longer than I’d intended and I knew I’d have a lot waiting for me back at W.E. But then you got hurt and no one knew how to save you—all they could do was stabilize you with concentrated sunlight and keep you from getting worse.”

 “…Okay? You could’ve gotten things done when I was passed out. Like you _usually_ do.” Kon furrowed his brows. “What am I missing here, babe?”

“I…” Tim ran a hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact. “I didn’t have time to do it because I was kind of inventing new medical technology for you.” After a moment’s hesitation, he added, “And then used it. Myself. On you.” He paused. “…You almost died on the operating table. Twice. So, you know.” Irritation bled into his tone. “If I’m a little twitchy about you getting hurt again, maybe I have a right to be.”

Kon stopped breathing for a moment, kind of like he’d been punched in the chest. Tim looked up, searching for an aggravation to his injury. Instead, all he saw was an intense expression on Kon’s face.

“Hey,” Tim said, putting a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “No. Don’t—whatever you’re thinking, it’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine.”

“I…” Kon closed his eyes, attempting to shake off the feelings overwhelming him. “I didn’t mean to put you through that.”

“It’s not like you’re _actively_ trying to make my blood pressure skyrocket,” Tim said. He made an effort at looking nonchalant, but Kon knew him better than that. Kon gently reached up and took hold of his hand, prompting him to continue. “I’m just… I’m just glad you’re _alive,_ alright? And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t try to die again.”

“I’m not _trying_ to. At least, not more than anyone else in the team is,” Kon promised. “Honest.”

“Kon.” Tim closed his eyes, finally moving to sit next to him. “Just—let it go. It’s over.”

Kon ignored Tim’s urging. Instead, he shifted, straining his injury to sit closer to him and wrap an arm around Tim’s waist. Tim attempted to stop him, but seeing the determination on Kon’s face, all he was doing was making it more difficult for Kon. So instead he worked on helping him, gently supporting him so he didn’t have to strain himself to sit up.

“I’m not gonna let it go,” Kon finally managed, teeth gritted against the pain. “You’re dwelling on it, so I’m gonna talk about it, okay? Obviously it’s important to you if it’s making you feel like this a day and a half later, babe.”

“’It’ being you and your health,” Tim said, gently resting a hand against Kon’s bandaged side. “ _You’re_ important to me.” The confused, surprised expression on Kon’s face made him pause. Tim wondered if he’d really been that bad at communicating it. If he’d really left it so open for interpretation. “Look, I… I know I’m not the best at… showing it. But I’m only worried because I…”

Kon rested his head against Tim’s shoulder, silently prompting him to continue. Tim wasn’t sure if he was just tired, or if he was hurting too much to talk, or if he needed the reassurance.

Deciding it didn’t matter for now, he sighed and tried to continue.

“I do love you. You know that.” Tim brushed his thumb over Kon’s injury, making sure to keep it light enough that his boyfriend couldn’t actually feel it. “I _do_. Whether I show it or not. I know I overdo it with work, and I don’t make time for you like I should, and I don’t… tell you that I love you. Um. _Ever_. But I do.”

Kon rested a hand on Tim’s knee. “I know you do,” he said, voice a little strained. Tim wasn’t sure if it was from physical pain or emotional pain. “I do, too. Love you, I mean.”

In a rare show of affection, Tim turned and pressed a soft kiss against Kon’s forehead. “I know you do,” he parroted. Despite the soft smile that briefly flickered on Kon’s face, it vanished in his next breath. Tim quickly realized that Kon was still having trouble staying upright, and pressed another kiss against his forehead to coax him to listen. “Hey. You’ve had your fun,” he said, attempting to shift away. “Lie back down. You’re nowhere near healed.”

“I’ll be fine in a day or two,” Kon managed, though winced at the next wave of pain. “Honest.”

Tim kept his gaze firm and unyielding as he took hold of Kon’s shoulders and maneuvered him back down onto the bed. “And until then,” he said, carefully kneeling over him. “You’re going to stay like this.”

Kon let out a sigh, looking a little disappointed. But at least he didn’t look like he was in pain anymore. “It’s really not that bad.” He carefully—slowly—reached a hand up to cup Tim’s cheek. “I’m going to be just fine. Honest.”

“Kryptonite was inside of you for more than forty-eight hours,” Tim said, tone taking a no-nonsense approach. Still, he braced one hand over the one Kon had rested on his cheek. “It’s a miracle you didn’t die _before_ the surgery. You’re lucky Superman knew how to counteract it—you’re lucky you’re half human, or it might’ve killed you immediately.”

“Yeah, and there’s no point dwelling on what-ifs,” Kon said, voice going softer. “I’m here.”

Tim let out a breath. “…You’re here,” he agreed. It took a moment, but Tim felt a strong urge for reassurance. “You’re not going anywhere, either.”

“Nowhere, Tim. Honest.”

The reassurance was more than Tim knew what to do with at first, and he simply stayed on top of him. It took a moment to remember what to do with himself, and by the time he had, Kon was looking up at him with concern—though it was almost more amused than worried.

“You gonna be alright?” Kon asked, attempting to lean up again. Tim knew better than to let him, and he quickly leaned down to kiss him before Kon could injure himself further.

When Tim pulled away, he nodded. To his surprise, it actually felt like the truth.

Once Kon saw that nod, he grinned. Tim recognized it as the first big, genuine smile he’d had since this whole mess started.

“Good,” Kon finally said, closing his eyes and letting his hand drop back to the bed. “Because it’s almost four in the morning, and _you_ need to sleep.” He both looked and sounded exhausted, which might have worried Tim if it wasn’t what he’d been hoping for. Kon still needed as much rest as he could get, and Tim was glad that the conversation had worn him out.

Tim just watched him for a moment, happy to see the sleepy, contented expression on Kon’s face. “Just me, huh?”

Kon nodded. “Just you. You haven’t slept in a few days if my math’s accurate.”

“Your math’s never accurate,” Tim said. Despite his teasing, he gently got off of him so he wouldn’t interfere with Kon falling back asleep. Before he could get totally off of the bed, though, Kon reached out and grabbed his wrist. Despite Kon’s lack of TTK or superstrength, he still managed to hold him tight enough that Tim couldn’t slip away. “Kon. Just go to sleep. I’ll be five feet away if you need me.”

But Kon just shook his head. “I’d prefer it if you were two inches away and getting some sleep, too,” he said, gently tugging on his wrist. “Batman can live without an update tonight. And you _know_ Tam has your back with W.E.”

“Kon…”

“You’ve been running yourself into the ground ‘cause of me,” he said. There was almost a wry grin on his face as he added, “I’m not gonna take that lying down.”

Tim rolled his eyes at the joke. But he couldn’t just ignore his request, either. His laptop might have been calling him, but… Kon had a point. About Wayne Enterprise, and casefiles, and about Tim’s health.

He knew he only had about another day before he became a legitimate medical risk from stress and lack of sleep. If he didn’t sleep tonight, then the next day he’d be genuinely useless. And if Kon needed him, he wouldn’t be able to be there for him.

That, more than concern for his own wellbeing, was what prompted him to finally agree.

“Okay,” Tim finally said, and didn’t resist any more of Kon’s tugging. Instead, he climbed back onto the bed. Though once he was closer, he hesitated, unsure how close was too close when Kon was injured. Kon would have none of it, and continued tugging on him as if afraid that Tim was having second thoughts. Tim, realizing there was no way out, finally just pulled the covers away and laid down in the empty space. “ _Okay_ , Kon,” he said, relaxing when Kon stopped pulling. “I’ll sleep. Happy?”

This time, Kon didn’t have to struggle so much to lean over for a kiss. Tim returned it gently, closing the gap without a word.

Though part of Tim wanted to be dramatic and extend the kiss far longer than was appropriate, he kept it as short and sweet as he was able. The last thing he wanted to do was tease Kon—not when Kon was too injured for anything more than chaste pecks. It would just be mean.

Despite the chastity, though, Kon smiled into the kiss.

And when they broke away, the restless look in Kon’s eyes had _finally_ melted away to nothing.

“ _Very_ happy,” Kon agreed around a yawn, settling back down against the pillows. “I’ve only been asking for eight hours. Maybe next time I’ll make it in seven.”

“Ass.”

As Tim settled down next to him, Kon attempted to shift closer. Not wanting Kon to strain himself, Tim closed the gap, draping an arm over Kon’s waist. Kon tilted his head enough to press a quick kiss against Tim’s brow, saying a soft, sleepy, “You love it, though.”

Tim realized he could get used to this—the sensation of Kon so close to him, comfortable and easy to please. “I don’t,” he said. “You’re a jerk. Why am I dating you, again?”

“Because you love _me_ ,” Kon said. Tim nearly retorted with something witty, but his words died in his throat when Kon looked at him with sleepy but genuine affection. Though he didn’t need the words, he nonetheless whispered a soft, sweet, “And even if you didn’t… I love _you_. So you’re stuck with me.”

And Tim felt his heart skip a beat. But he didn’t deny it.

Tim settled against him almost on instinct, pressing his warm cheeks against the heat radiating from Kon’s chest. It wasn’t until his ear was pressed over Kon’s heart that he even recognized the intimacy of the gesture.

But he didn’t regret it.

And if he was going to get to sleep tonight, he knew good and well that there was no better way.

“Night, Kon,” he said softly, hesitating only briefly over the next words. But with the steady rise and fall of Kon’s chest under him, it was second-nature to add a soft, “Love you, too.”

Kon’s arm draped over Tim’s back, but it was clear the last few minutes had worn him out; he didn’t try to say anything else. As for Tim, he didn’t think he could stay awake for more than a few minutes. Even if he gave his all, he was too warm and comfortable—too reassured by Kon’s steady presence around him.

So he finally let his guard drop.

Within minutes, the only sounds between them were mingling breaths and a steady, shared heartbeat.

And just on the cusp of sleep, Tim knew one thing. Whether dawn brought immediate healing or the promise of extra recovery, Kon was still here.

And they—Kon and Tim, the pair of them—whether they were best friends or boyfriends; whether they were good at ‘I love you’ or better at being each other's silent support; whether they were the worst at communication or just still learning;

They were going to be just fine.

 

**Author's Note:**

> title and part of the summary is from the song "the projectionist" by sleeping at last. 
> 
> to clarify about kon's injuries:  
> this isn't from anything in canon. mostly a mixture of headcanons and canon information about how kon's body works... anyways. prior to the fic, kon was injured at the very tail end of a mission. he was shot with an explosive kryptonite bullet in a last ditch effort by the enemy, but by then he'd already freed his team. the bullet was designed to break apart once inside of him, and it did, leaving several small pieces that couldn't easily be pulled out. clark figured out a way to keep him from getting worse by concentrating sunlight and putting him under it, and tim helped out with that. however, it caused his skin to heal and cover over the kryptonite shrapnel, and tim had to figure out a way to pierce his skin again to get all the kryptonite out. he ended up using more kryptonite to pierce the skin, and barely managed to get everything out before the skin closed up again. in that time, between the kryptonite poisoning kon already had and the extra kryptonite tim had to use on him for surgery, it was really no surprise kon died twice on the table. the reason kon is taking so long to recover is because of kryptonite poisoning... and because the main organ that got injured was a kryptonian one that's used to convert sunlight to energy. with that one down, it's taking his body way longer to heal. 
> 
> thanks for reading, and please comment if you liked this!


End file.
